Growing Grapes Might be Fun by Deirdre Macken

Author:Deirdre Macken [Deirdre Macken]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2023-02-24T00:00:00+00:00

21

Succession: Too Soon and Not Soon Enough

I’m staring at the sheep that have gathered around the paddock nearest to the house and turned their backs on me as I drive past. I get a view of their bums. Are their bums too poo-ey? That is, are they normal, slightly shitty bums—or are they fly-struck? Do they need a decent rain shower to clean them up, or are they being eaten alive from the inside?

Mum wonders why I don’t have much interest in sheep, and I’m thinking of her as I look at them. I’ve heard gossip (okay, it was Mary) that Mum would like me to take more interest in the sheep on the Hill. At the moment, Roger and I look after the vineyard, and Patrick, who manages another property of Mum’s, looks in on the sheep. Suits me. This was academic until a few weeks ago.

A few weeks ago, Mum’s heart started failing. And I’m not talking metaphorically. She now has a pacemaker and is regaining much of her former and formidable energy. None of us want to dwell on what might have been.

Mum almost died. Her heart rate was dangerously low, it was erratic. She collapsed at home. She was first taken to the local hospital, then into Canberra. Emergency surgery.

Waiting. First, for hours. Then for a day. To see if everything was going to be all right. It turned out everything was going to be all right, but there is an unbearable emptiness while you’re waiting to hear whether someone you love has died. I breathed lightly, as if I couldn’t be too greedy in my living-ness while my mother hovered near death. As if I didn’t deserve that much breath if my mother had none. Share it around, treasure it, go lightly in this life. I don’t know.

A few weeks on, we now pretend that it was just a hiccup. Like a flu. Or a kidney stone. Everything is back to normal. Except my confidence. And maybe Mum’s confidence. Possibly the sheep’s confidence.

After our shock and fear had subsided, we all asked ourselves the same question. What would have happened? There are (and don’t hold me to these numbers) about nine farms, probably twenty properties, about 12,000 livestock (and multiplying fast after the drought), about half-a-dozen full-time or part-time workers, a dozen regular contractors, three or four town businesses and a vineyard.

Obviously, Mum has also been wondering what might have happened and what she would like to happen if a hiccup re-occurs. While she’s not about to cede control, she is talking about sharing information and knowledge. I suspect she’d like to educate me on fly-struck sheep bums.

It might be time.

She’s eighty-nine years old. Ray is ninety-one years old. Most people would say: it’s about time. But I’ve always thought that if they are still capable and interested in running a farming empire then they should. The problem with that is that if they were both to die while still controlling the management and information of all their enterprises then they would leave a bloody big mess behind.

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